


Can't Rain All the Time

by ValensHawke



Series: Ghost Love Score [4]
Category: Claymore, Claymore (Anime & Manga)
Genre: Clare & Raki (friendship), Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-15
Updated: 2021-02-15
Packaged: 2021-03-17 18:47:54
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 11,507
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29476464
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ValensHawke/pseuds/ValensHawke
Summary: Spring is the rainy season in Pieta. Clare has commanded the Northern Territories for five years now. And everyone notices she observes a certain ritual every spring. She goes out to the edge of town and sits in the rain.Raki tries to figure out why.“'Some things transcend life, Clare. The rain can’t last forever, no matter how hard you make it try,' Raki softly says."
Relationships: Clare/Jean (Claymore)
Series: Ghost Love Score [4]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/345395
Comments: 1
Kudos: 6





	Can't Rain All the Time

**Author's Note:**

> I'd like to thank claymoreshortstoryproject, twentytwohearts, goatalicious, gently-berns, and nivalingreenhow for being editors on this fic.
> 
> All mistakes are my own. Tried my best. But, as we know, that's never good enough.

It isn’t a pleasant time of the year for Raki. In the mountains, it warms up enough that snow gives way to rain. A cold, harsh rain. But the rain fills the wells and helps with the cold-weather crops. Raki knows he doesn’t hate the rain; he hates what happens when it returns. 

It’s a normal day, the start of the seasons changing. He stands next to his forge, his feelings of dread growing as it gets closer to spring; or, rather, what passes for spring in Pieta. He waits for his forge to heat up the metal, as his mind begins to reminisce of the past springs. He takes a deep sigh and checks the metal.

Finally, he thinks. Pulling it out and moving it over to his anvil, he grabs his hammer and begins striking the malleable metal several times. He finds blacksmithing a good source of venting his frustrations, few that they were. He remembers Clare’s words when he brought up the idea of becoming a blacksmith.

“It might be good in other ways, a way to take out your frustrations in a healthy manner,” she said to him years ago.

“I’d also be useful,” he had responded.

He remembers the frowning look she gave him, “Raki…” she started reproachfully, “You’re very important to many of us,” Clare calmly finished.

The doubt still lingers, but it is different now. His work as a blacksmith gives him a sense of pride. The warriors wear his armor, carry his knives and daggers. Commander Miria praises him for all the new armor and equipment he forges.

He knows he has helped the warriors. But the one person he wants to help the most is the one person he can never figure out just how to help. 

_Even though Helen and Deneve say my presence in Clare’s life is invaluable… Why does she sit out in the rain?_

He wants to do more. He wants to crack the mystery as to why Clare sits out in the rain every spring. He wonders if it has anything to do with her wanting the northern territories. He does not know why she wanted to come back to Pieta. Back then, he didn’t care either: He was just happy to be with her again. 

Raki can hear the rain as it hits the roof of his workshop. He sighs, knowing what is coming. Soon, the newest warrior will come, concerned, to ask him about Captain Clare. Among the many rituals now observed in Pieta, this one is certain. 

He continues to work the metal. He is not quite sure what he wants to do with it. 

God of Rabona, give me some inspiration, he thinks to himself as he hammers away.

~*~

Raki hears a loud knock on his door.

“Come in!” he yells, then looks up. He knows who it will be before she enters. 

The young warrior enters, and Raki can see the nervousness on her face. 

“Raki, sir?” she asks in a formal and stiff tone. He can see her shoulders tense. 

He smiles, “It’s only Raki. How can I help you?” The newest ones are always like this: She arrived at the start of winter. 

The warrior starts to open her mouth, then closes it. Raki knows this is part of the ritual. The newest warriors are concerned, though unsure why. Clare's behavior is not normal, but it isn’t something that is causing harm. Raki's experience tells him the concern lies in Clare sitting in the rain is a departure from how Captain Clare acts normally. He also knows Clare makes it clear she wants to be alone when she goes off in the rain. She has her way of having her way.

“Captain Clare,” the young warrior starts, “is sitting in the rain and…” the warrior pauses, unsure of what else to say. 

“You’re worried and wondering why everyone else doesn’t seem to think it’s a problem. Right, Crystal?” Raki asks. He has a small smile, not trying to look angry or concerned. He tries to look reassuring, though he does not believe he’s come close to mastering that look yet.

Crystal nods, looking calmer. He can tell she’s still very unsure, she is not looking directly at him, her eyes are wandering his shop. Her shoulders are still a bit tense and the neutral expression she’s trying to maintain is faltering. He can see her brows slightly furrow, the mouth frowning slightly, and concern now in her eyes. 

“I wouldn’t say we don’t think it’s a problem. I mean, in the end, she’s just getting soaked. It won’t affect her health, but you know that. Clare has her reasons for doing this, much like why she always starts her days in the mountains. I know it’s not much, but she feels it is necessary and as long as it is not causing any harm she’s earned the right to do what she wants,” he says. He’s given this speech so many times now, it’s second-nature to him and that bothers him. He had hoped that Clare would eventually stop, because it would mean Clare is getting better. But each passing year makes it clear to him. She is not. There’s still something there.

 _Not that it’s causing her any harm, but it isn’t helping her either._

“Yes, sir,” Crystal says. To Raki, she looks reassured slightly and this surprises him. The other warriors would take him at his word and politely dismiss themselves. He’d remind them they are free to drop in any time. Some did, others did not. Those that did found a friendly ear to help adjust to Pieta and to understand their new Captain. 

Crystal looks confused to Raki, clearly unsure of what to say next. 

“Is there something else wrong, Crystal?” 

She opens her mouth again before closing it. Her hands are clenched. She looks down at the ground for a few moments before looking back up, “Sir, forgive me for being meddlesome in things that don’t involve me,” she pauses, clearly trying to find the words. She shakes her head slightly, “But is there truly nothing we can do to help Captain Clare?” she asks. 

Raki cocks his head slightly; this is new to him. No other warrior had ever suggested they could do something. He does not know what can be done either. But the fact this warrior wants to do something comforts him a bit, even though he remains lost as to what to do. 

He tries to come up with something. Anything really. But nothing comes to him.

He suppresses a sigh, thinking it will give the wrong idea to Crystal. He looks at the forge, trying to come up with any idea. He has none. He decides to give her the truth of his thoughts.

“I don’t know, Crystal,” he says softly. He shakes his head and gives her an honest look of sadness. “If I did, you would not be asking” he says, the sadness clear in his voice. 

Crystal’s eyes start to well a bit, “I’m sorry, sir,” he says.

Raki gives her a sad smile, “You have nothing to apologize for, Crystal. It’s also just Raki, nothing more,” he says, trying to reassure her. 

“Yes, si-Raki,” Crystal says, looking sad and confused. 

He understands her feelings. He feels the same way at the start of every spring; like Crystal, he wishes he knew what to do. 

“Raki, if I think of anything, may I come back here and talk it over?” she asks, showing her earnesty in her face. 

“Of course, Crystal. You’re welcome back to talk about anything at any time,” he responds.

Crystal nods, “Thank you,” then turns around to leave.

After she leaves, he finally lets out a sigh, slumping his shoulders, That was different. 

He goes to the window to look at the rain and think. 

It took awhile, but eventually Raki accepted the unique status he has among the warriors. Having the respect and admiration of Commander Miria carries a great deal of weight among the warriors. They hold him in high regard, even though he still has a hard time accepting it. The warriors under Clare’s command see the calming effect he has one her. So much so that the Captain is not the hard ass she tends to be most of the time. 

Raki understands Clare’s method of command and leadership. He thinks back to when he first met her and how reckless she was with her own life. When they were reunited after seven long years apart, her recklessness was not nearly as pronounced. She thought first about protecting others and herself and the change grew in the five years they have lived in Pieta. She tries to ensure the new warriors are not nearly as reckless, both by example and by how she coordinates and plans their jobs. Now, she believes in discipline and teamwork, but also emphasizing the importance of warriors being able to adapt on-the-fly. 

_She’s still reckless with her own emotions…_ he sighs. Raki never asks about Jean. He’s seen the pain on Clare’s face when others have mentioned her. He does not want to hurt Clare, so he avoids her name. Helen and Deneve told him what they knew one morning when they visited Pieta. They also go to the mountains with Clare when they visit. 

“What they shared... It’s on a deeper level than most of us probably realized then. Remember how she wouldn’t let go of Jean’s gravestone until she placed it? And the fact she goes to the mountains every morning? Clare loves Jean… And I’ve always wondered how she carries the guilt of Jean dying,” Deneve said. 

_How she carries that guilt… Trying to wash it away, Clare?_

There is something deeper here. Something that causes Clare to sit in the rain, letting it drench her. The first few times, he chalked it up to a unique feeling: At least, that’s what he told himself five years ago. Now, he wonders why Clare punishes herself this way. It is one of the many rituals Clare observes, coupled with her morning ritual to the mountains. Much like the unpredictable length of the rain, her visits to the mountain vary. Sometimes, it’s a short visit. Occasionally, she stays there longer. 

Seven years. He doesn’t ask too much of what happened in those seven years. The other warriors tell him bits and pieces. Whatever happened then left a mark on Clare. And while she seems content most days, even happy on others, the rain… The rain brings out a sadness in her. The other warriors under her command feel it as well. Now, one is asking him to intervene. 

The thought to do something always crosses his mind. Raki never felt it appropriate to step in before. But now, he is older. He has experiences and lessons not many, even the warriors, have. He feels he must apply what he has learned now. 

He remembers the last time he worried about Clare this much, back when he learned from Isley. Training with the “Abyssal One of the North,” as the warriors referred to him. And his time spent with Priscilla… in their little make-shift family… the one who killed Teresa. Clare was never out of his thoughts. And his singular determination not be a burden made him an excellent swordsman thanks to Isley’s helping hand. 

But his time with them was also a singular source of fear. His fear of telling Clare was always palpable, but she always found a way to sneak in a comment, alluding to Priscilla or Isley, when they talked. That she might not have understood, but he did nothing wrong. That it was somehow okay. The Priscilla he knew and helped protect was her humanity calling out. 

The night he finally told her of his time with Isley and Priscilla was a relief. He held back tears then, and when he finished telling her everything she just grabbed him and hugged him hard, calling him brave. 

He wishes he could do just that again, hug her and make the pain all go away.

_Perhaps I should write a letter to Commander Miria._

He is often surprised how diligent the mail is these days. The end of the Organization led to the strengthening of communication between cities and towns. He realized, a few years after the Organization fell, how much it stifled communication for its own purposes. 

He is more surprised that Miria, without fail, always responds to his letters promptly. The main source of communications between them are the monthly reports. Clare handles the people and leads the warriors, he helps with the administrative work. He spends time compiling data: How many Yoma were killed, how many warriors were injured, the severity of those injuries, any deaths, and if they’ve encountered Awakened Beings. If there are deaths, he will write a few words on Clare’s state of mind as a result. And without fail, Miria writes him back, thanking him for the update on Clare and helping her wellbeing. 

There were no deaths in the last two years, but there have been major injuries. The town is lucky to have two warriors trained in Yoki-manipulation to help healing a great deal. It helps Clare psychology. The years of writing reports led him to notice a trend: Clare is growing into a leader. Her similarities to Miria are becoming more striking. They both try to save everyone. 

Yet, there is still something lingering, a guilt he can never figure out. He sighs, leaving the window sill and returning to his forge. He grabs the metal rod he had been working on, unsure of what he is making now. He does know this, it’s the first rain of the year, and he grabs his hammer then hits the cold metal as hard as he can. The impact causes him to drop his hammer and shake his hand. It hurt, but his frustrations overwhelmed him. 

_I will write to Commander Miria. I will help Clare._

~*~

A few days after the first rain, Raki sits at his customary table. Clare hates having an office, but understands the need for one. Raki knows the effort Clare makes to come to the office daily and spend time, helping him compile the reports. Officially, he holds no rank. Unofficially, Clare treats him as her second-in-command and adjutant. It means he handles the reports while Clare leads her warriors and deals with the townspeople. He steps in with the townspeople when she is away. She rotates who leads the warriors when she is away, but each one has come to him for advice when Clare is gone for longer than a few days. Those trips are usually to Rabona, to consult with Commander Miria, or to see Helen and Deneve, who command adjacent territories.

In the five years since the town was re-established, he sees the relationship between the human and warriors go from uncertainty to mutual respect. Some were jealous, but he viewed that as natural. The warriors never appear to age after a certain point due to the process the Organization forced upon them. The warriors will outlive all the humans in this town. How could some not be jealous? Still, others began to understand the price these warriors paid, and how the Organization used them all. The Organization no longer exists, but the older warriors, like Clare, feel it is their duty to strengthen the relationship between the warriors and the humans. 

Clare’s reputation traveled. Shortly after returning to Pieta, she organized a mission to eliminate a bandit group in a neighboring town. The success of that mission spread like a wildfire. Soon, the officials of surrounding northern towns, ones that were starting to rebuild, came to her for alliances and protection. Raki remembers Clare was overwhelmed at first, being seen as some kind of savior to people.

But her demands are very simple: Everyone is to be treated fairly, with respect, and have the opportunity to earn a living, and she would do everything in her power to protect the towns and the people. Of course, the first few years of Clare’s leadership were very stressful on her. She rarely showed the stress to him and made sure never to seem exhausted or burned out to the warriors. Except when it rains. 

Raki feels it is odd that he is proud of Clare’s growth as a leader. But there is a remaining conflict, something that Clare holds onto from the past, a relic of guilt. As he finishes his reports, he grabs a blank sheet of parchment then starts to write with a quill. 

“Commander Miria,

I’m including this letter as part of our monthly report in hopes you can give me some insight. It has been five years and Clare has improved in many ways. Pieta is doing well. The warriors under her command all respect her immensely and love her in a sisterly way,” he refrains from writing just which warrior he suspects harbors a crush on Clare before continuing. “However, they worry, as do I, about Clare’s well-being at times. You’ve not visited during our ‘spring’ season, when it rains. When it rains, Clare is noticed sitting, standing, or working in the rain. While I have tried to ignore it, since she is just getting wet and that does affect you, I feel something deeper is driving this,” he pauses and tries to collect his thoughts.

_It’s all related. Coming back here, the visits to the mountain, the rain. And it all points to one person. Jean._

He continues again, trying to keep his hand steady, “If you have any insight as to why Clare is doing this and suggestions on how to help Clare work through whatever she is trying to do, I’d very much appreciate it. I am concerned and I have expressed this to her. But you know her, ‘I’m fine, you don’t need to concern yourself with me getting a little drenched.’

Also, forgive me if this is presumptuous of me to ask, but I have not been to the place in the mountains, what is Jean’s symbol?

Thank you,

Raki.”

He looks at the letter, contemplating if there is anything more to add. He finally lets out a sigh. _There is no good way to ask. It is best to be direct._

He puts the letter on top of the stack of papers, before thinking better of it. He then puts the letter under the first report. A twinge of guilt hits him, but he knows Clare will not open up about this. 

He gets up and walks to the window. Her office was on the second floor. The window oversees the town square. It gives Clare, and himself, a view of how the town is doing. 

_It’s not deception, I’m just trying to understand what she won’t tell me,_ he rationalizes. Yet, she doesn’t want to tell me. All he has is the few statements Deneve told him years ago. A warrior named Jean traveled with her to Pieta while she was looking for him. 

He struggles to remember when Clare ever mentioned her, drawing a blank. Jean is someone that remains a mystery to him. But even he knows the name Teresa: The Strongest Number One. 

_Whoever you are Jean, Clare still carries you in her heart._

_But that place in the mountains… Her final resting place. Sacred ground for many warriors._ The youngest warriors know of the story, the Northern War in this very town. Clare, occasionally, talks to her warriors about it, partially to correct facts from exaggerations of what actually happened. Mostly, she uses the war as a lesson to impart the importance of maintaining discipline and self-control, something the younger Clare lacked a great deal of at times. Raki knows the darker parts of Clare’s mind, back then, were reckless and chaotic. He imagines it would be difficult for the warriors under her command to see her as such, a testament to her growth. 

He looks up at the greying sky and sighs. The last few days were nice, but he knows the rain is coming. Clare has not returned with her scouting party. Reconnaissance takes much longer now, almost to the edge of the next territories. He knows Clare likes to be thorough, at times to the frustration of the other warriors.

He decides to go back to his workshop to work on a dagger he wants Clare to test out. He knows she wants something that will not break easily, not fail in a combat situation. He hopes she returns with her party soon.

~*~

Raki sits down in his work chair, covered in sweat. He is tired. His shop is hot, while the outside is cool. He hears the rain hitting hard on the roof of his shop. He examines the dagger. It is the sixth one he produced for Clare to test. He never understood why the Organization gave the warriors unbreakable swords, but virtually no armor except for subpar pauldrons and greaves. Armor that could be bought in small towns, poorly forged and made of questionable materials.

The concept behind steel was simple enough for Raki. However, how the Organization produced a warrior’s sword is frustratingly beyond him. Occasionally, when he lets his frustrations show, Clare and Miria comfort him with the fact his new armor and metallurgical formulations have reduced the number of injuries the warriors end up receiving. It helps him feel useful and less of a burden to Clare. Even Commander Miria thanks him for his contributions when she visits. 

“I understand you want to break the Organization’s secrets, but look at what you have done. We sustained fewer injuries, far fewer casualties, because of the work you’ve put in. Your chest armor has saved lives, Raki. Think about that the next time you get frustrated,” he remembers Clare saying, trying to be comforting and reassuring. 

He will give this attempt at a new dagger to Clare. Clare is strong enough to handle anything that comes at her. He shares her desire to keep the warrior’s out of harm’s way as much as possible. 

He hears the sound of hooves hitting the ground. The hunting-party is back. He gets up, walks to the door, then opens it. He stays inside, but he sees the warriors wearing ponchos. Clare, however, is wearing nothing to protect herself from the elements. 

Raki knows Clare is usually smiling when everyone comes back unharmed. When it rains, all bets are off. He watches the party as they each dismount and stable the horses. From Clare’s body language, he knows she’s dismissing them for the day as they begin to scatter. He knows the newer ones will go to their quarters, the older ones will go to the pub, the ones on sentry duty will take up their posts. He sees clare walking towards his direction. He knows she is not coming to see him. Not yet at least. She will walk to the back, all the way to the edge of town, to her spot, sit there, and sit some more. Eventually, once the patrol starts, one of the warriors will see her. He has a feeling Crystal will come and ask again. But this is Clare’s spring ritual. 

He knows calling out to Clare is useless, she’s determined to spend her time alone right now. He sighs, walking back into the shop to examine the dagger. A part of him feels he should try to smelt the sword Miria presented him to crack the Organization’s secret on sword production.

_Stop thinking that way! Miria presented that sword to YOU._

He hears the rain pick up. 

_Three months of this?_ he thinks to himself, _No, I hope you have some wisdom Commander Miria. I could surely use some right now._

He sits in silence in his shop. He does not want to go home yet. He puts the dagger atop the forge and just sits. 

_Five years is long enough._

He sighs, gets up, then walks to the door. He takes a moment to compose himself for the public. 

_At least she’s not throwing her life away,_ he thinks before he leaves his workshop. He’d go back to the office to wait for Clare.

~*~

“It was quiet. We did come across some traders headed this way. We inspected their goods, checked for weapons, and read their body language. I checked on them again when we arrived. People are feeling more comfortable trading between cities and towns now. Miria thinks Rabona will be asked to help form a trading guild,” Clare says. Raki takes down notes in shorthand.

“And how about the warriors?” he says.

“Crystal was constantly looking at me on the way back. It was…” she pauses, unsure of the right word. “It was unsettling.”

 _The new one. She developed a crush very fast._ The fact this happens with many of the new recruits used to give Raki a chuckle. This time, he feels sad. Pieta, the mountains, all point to one thing: Clare’s heart, at least part of it, belongs to Jean. 

“No Yoma?” he asks. He makes sure to periodically ask as reassurance there are fewer and fewer on the island.

“No,” Clare says, then shrugs. “It’s strange. So much time worrying about the Yoma… Voracious Eaters… Awakened Beings. Now I focus on bandits and criminals. Even then, it’s becoming a challenge to many any anymore.”

“It does say something about your leadership here that the Yoma are now becoming a myth. It’s been two years since we’ve recorded their last known sighting in this territory. And the bandits fear you, Clare,” he reminds her.

Clare responds with a shrug. Raki is used to her lack of a response. 

“I think Commander Miria instills more fear and respect amongst the bandits than I do, Raki,” she says matter-of-factly, as if that was the only possible reason. 

Raki shrugs in return before continuing, “Is there anything else we should put in today’s report?”

“No, I think that’s everything. I don’t think we’ll patrol as far tomorrow. We might reduce that to every other day. I’d like some to have some of the older warriors start going to the other towns on my behalf. Celina does not seem like she wants to leave Pieta soon and I think she’ll be a fine permanent subcommander if I am called to Rabona or elsewhere,” she says. 

“Yes, please. I’d prefer not being the de facto acting Captain in your place. It’s not right,” he responds. Raki does not like being perceived as having authority over the warriors. While he understands this speaks to Clare’s and Miria’s trust in him, and understands Clare’s logic, he thinks it should go to one of the other warriors.

Clare sighs and shrugs, “I don’t think it’s a big deal. Miria vouches for you and that’s enough.”

He knows Clare is right, but doesn’t like it, “I know, but it will be nice to have one of the actual warriors instead of me,” he says, looking a bit relieved.

Clare looks towards the window and contemplates for a bit. “Celina is still someone that remembers the Yoma threat and even saw an Awakened Being. Then you have Crystal, who has seen neither,” she pauses. “You remember the threat and the chaos this land once suffered. That experience means a lot if we are to ensure nothing like this happens again. That the Organization, or whatever created it, never can do what they did again.” 

Raki takes in words, giving Clare a contemplative look back and understanding where her thoughts are going.

“There are still some Yoma somewhere. Whether they’re hiding in a cave, a river, or underground, they still exist for now. But someday, there won’t be anymore. Just like there is no more Organization. Yet, we have these girls…” she pauses. “And even we will no longer be,” she finishes, her face a mixture of sadness and happiness. 

Clare is not usually so introspective, even during the spring. It takes Raki aback a bit that Clare is both forwarding thinking and considering the massive change to the world. The Yoma will be gone. So will the warriors. Like Clare, Raki feels a mixture of sadness and happiness with a little bit of hope. Perhaps there will be no more chaos and suffering like it was under the Organization. 

Clare turns back towards him, “I’m sorry, I’m rambling about nonsense.” 

Raki looks at Clare, confused and worried, “No, don’t be sorry, it isn’t nonsense,” he says as he watches her stand up. “Clare?”

“I have a meeting with the village head south of here; he’s coming up to ask for assistance,” she says, a neutral expression on her face. 

“Oh, right. I remember that,” he says with a sheepish grin on his face. The grin didn’t match the furrowed brow and the worry wrinkles on his forehead. 

“We should include whatever he asks about in today’s report. Let’s do that when I’m done, okay?” Clare says, nodding. 

“Yes, that’s fine, I’ll go back to my shop,” Raki says. He then starts filing the reports to put away for the time-being. 

“That dagger you made is really nice,” Clare says with a smile. 

“The real test is how it works in battle,” he responds. 

Clare nods and gives Raki that same contemplative look she had earlier, “Even those are getting rarer and rarer these days,” she says in an almost distance voice. 

Raki cocks his head, giving her a confused look, “Well, that’s a good thing… Isn’t it?”

The question breaks Clare out of contemplation and she smiles, walks over and gives him a one-armed hug before leaving for the city hall. 

Raki stays for a bit, and tidies up the office before leaving as well. When he walks out, he feels a drop of water hit him. He looks up as the sky turns grey and darkens. His shoulder’s slump and he sighs. To the average person, he looks like someone that’s frustrated it is raining. He stares at the ground for a few moments. He knows there will be a delay in finishing today’s report and sighs before quickly walking to his shop.

~*~

It has been three hours since Clare left to meet with the village head from the southern part of her territory. Soon, afternoon will turn into evening; he is sure the meeting ended some time ago. He estimates it will be another three weeks, at least, before he possibly gets a response from Commander Miria. For Raki, it is far too long.

 _Why did I wait five years to do something? Why didn’t I send a letter soon?_ he scolds himself. 

He thinks back to the times Helen and Deneve visited and spoke to him, providing both encouragement and insight. Helen and Deneve did make one thing very clear: The place in the mountains was the only boundary Clare put up between himself and her. Between everyone except the remaining survivors of the Northern War. And they explained to him, in very brief detail, why it was so. 

He understands she puts up that boundary with nearly everyone that did not live through the war. At best, he can say he saw the lights go out from a distance with Priscilla and Isley. The younger warriors may visit, but not when she is there. He is allowed to visit, but not when she is there. Only the other warriors that survived may accompany her. 

_What does the rain do for you, Clare? Does it heal you? Does it hurt you? Is it a punishment for things you did? Why? Why is it when it rains?_

He struggles with the idea that Clare has done anything truly wrong. Mistakes, yes. Her being insubordinate are the funny stories Helen and Deneve tell about Clare when they visit. It’s meant in jest, but Clare once told him she appreciated the stories because they demonstrated growth, something the younger warriors will also experience. Commander Miria tells stories of certain battles where warriors are reckless during her visits. Miria never uses names to protect those involved, but Raki is sure most of the stories are about Clare. 

Helen and Deneve explained to him, discreetly, that Clare goes to the mountains to spend time with Jean. 

He hears someone knocking on his shop’s door. 

“Come in,” he yells. 

It is Crystal. He smiles at her, trying to put her at ease. There is a tenseness from her he can sense, that she is still not fully comfortable in Pieta. She stands, almost rigid, trying to convey both respect and politeness. 

“Um… si- Raki,” she stammers, then pauses. 

Raki sees the confused look on her face, a look he is familiar with among the younger warriors.

“It’s okay to be concerned, Crystal. Perhaps we don’t show it, but I know everyone is concerned. This is that time of the year, and if rain wasn’t so important… I could live without it,” he says. He can not help but sound a little sad as he says this. 

Crystal’s shoulders drop a bit, she lets out a small sigh, “I know it is not my place, but the other warriors mention comments in passing. What happened here 12 years ago? Commander Miria told us the story of the Great Northern War and how so many of us were sent to be... “ she pauses, swallows hard and looks at the floor before continuing, “To be slaughtered.”

“Truthfully, I don’t know myself. Outside of the history the survivors provide, I have no details. The Organization sent 24 warriors here. Only seven survived the war. Only six remain alive today,” he pauses, looking at the floor himself. He scowls at the floor, his frustration building. 

“Well…” he starts, then stops. He knows he is not being completely honest, “There are a few more details I know, but I don’t feel comfortable sharing. But what happened left a mark on Clare and is, possibly, the reason she stands out in the rain,” he finishes. 

Crystal turns her head, and looks contemplatively at the door. Raki assumes she is trying to compose her thoughts.

“The rain…” she starts to say before turning back to look at Raki, “the rain… The Church of Rabona has many religious texts and Sister Latea likes to tell stories of hope and overcoming fear or disaster. Sometimes, she talks about begging for forgiveness and atonement when we’ve done something horrible. One of the frequent stories she tells us is how the gods or goddesses like to make it rain, because it washes the way the evil and let’s everything start anew,” she finishes. 

“That could be both good and bad,” Raki says. 

“How?” Crystal asks, her eyes confused.

“You could flood everything and destroy an entire world,” he says in a calm voice. He wonders where such a cynical thought originates. 

He scowls as he looks at his forge. He remains quiet, crossing his arms. He does not notice Crystal is looking at him, her face expressing concern she might have said something wrong. He cocks his head, his eyes focused on the forge.

_Is that what you’ve been trying to do? Wash away the evil? Drown it away?_

He looks back up at Crystal, seeing the fearful eyes, one of her hands clenched to her side. He cocks his head sideways, not sure what brought on this sudden fear response. 

Raki’s facial expression softens, “Is something wrong, Crystal?” he asks in a warm tone. 

“I thought-,” she stammers, “I thought maybe I said something I shouldn’t have,” she responds, her voice slightly quivering. 

“No, no, it’s not something I ever thought about. I don’t…” He pauses and thinks, “I remember praying sometimes, during an important time. A priest would come from Rabona. But after I was cast out, I never really saw or participated in any worship.”

A smile breaks out on his face as he starts to chuckle, “I remember when Clare initially thought of leaving in Rabona because I’d be safer,” he says, laughing. His laughter is loud and infections as Crystal starts to laugh with him. There is nothing inherently funny in what he’s saying to her. If he takes the time to explain that ordeal, he’s sure she wouldn’t be laughing at all. But he wants to lighten the mood. 

“I don’t know much about gods and or goddesses and I never viewed that as important. I’m not sure how important it is,” he says. He is quiet again, looking toward the small window he has in his shop. “But I do wonder… What bothers Clare for so long and so much… Washing away what she thinks is her own evil?” he wonders aloud, focusing his gaze outside before turning back to look at Crystal.

“Captain Clare is not evil!” Crystal says. The sudden outburst of anger she shows disappears almost as quickly, replaced with a look of horror and embarrassment as she covers her mouth with her left hand. 

His eyes widen with shock at the visceral reaction. He remains quiet for a few moments, staring at the floor, before the humor of the situation hits him. He stifles the urge to laugh. 

“I did not mean to imply Clare is evil, but it is a common feeling among the older warriors. The feeling you are monsters. It’s natural to assume some things about Clare’s thinking. Of course, she’s not evil. But she might feel like she’s done evil, done things she’s not proud of. Done things she wishes she could just simply…” he pauses and looks toward his window again, “Just simply wash away. But those feelings stay with us. Stay with the older warriors,” Raki finishes gently. He smiles at Crystal, hoping to put her at ease. 

_She really developed a deep crush on Clare._

Crystal unclenches her fist as her cheeks turn a bit red. Her eyes dart around the room. Raki can see the panic rise in her body. 

“It’s okay, Crystal. I understand your reaction. It’s okay,” he says, walking over to her, then putting an arm around her shoulder to reassure her. 

The redness in her face starts to fade, her eyes still darting around the room. Her mouth opens but closes quickly. 

She takes a few deep breaths before starting, “Sister Latea tells us we’re not monsters; so do the older warriors. Raki, why does Clare feel like one when I do not?” she asks, her eyes narrow in confusion. 

There is something heartening to hear from a warrior that she does not think of herself as a monster. He wonders how typical that feeling is among Crystal's generation. 

“How did the Organization treat you?” he asks, giving a pointed look.

Crystal takes a deep breath before answering, “Like animals needing to be trained and obedient.”

“What did they do to you?”

“Implanted us with the flesh of monsters.”

“And is it a struggle not to give in to those thoughts, desires?”

“Sometimes,” she stops and has a quizzical look on her face before continuing, ”but I think of the future. I think of my friends. It’s silly but I get excited when the mail comes, I look forward to those letters I get from them. And seeing Sister Latea again, when I am stronger. Of seeing my friends and telling them how much I’ve missed them. Even our human friends struggle between good and evil. It’s why we have bandits and criminals. It’s why Captain Clare fights those monsters as well. I know we have the flesh of monsters within us, and that causes a struggle between that and our human mind. But the human mind can be just as evil. It was the human mind that created the Organization. Perhaps more evil exists than I realize, but I don’t think that makes us any more evil than the evil among our human friends,” she finishes. 

He looks at her, eyes rapidly blinking. He is bewildered. His earliest memories with Clare is her having to kill her friend from her trainee days, the explanation of how they would eventually become monsters, come flooding back. The tears he shed for Clare because she could not. Now he stands next to a warrior taught so differently, one protected and cared for that a mixture of sadness and joy overwhelm him. The sadness because the older warriors (like Clare) were treated so horribly by the Organization. The joy because many of the older warriors are making sure this generation of warriors are given the support they need to survive, to not ever lose their human minds. 

“You have to remember that Captain Clare was brought up very differently by the Organization,” he says. 

“But whatever she did… or thinks she did… she is not evil… It wasn’t her fault!” she says exasperated, then pauses. 

“She… and the older warriors… were always taught failure or harm… Defeat… was always their fault. They were disposable. It’s why you and the others exist. To replace them,” he says.

“No one can replace Captain Clare,” she responds.

Again, Raki cocks his head, then looks at her, “While I agree, why do you believe so?”

“Back in Rabona, the new warriors who came up here and returned after their assignments were up came back changed. Some of the older warriors said they came back stronger. Not just in strength, but that…” she pauses, looking contemplative before continuing, “They seemed to be better working in groups, tried to build camaraderie, tried to be better, tried to protect everyone. Sister Latea credited Captain Clare. Even when I met Commander Miria a few times, I would hear her mention Captain Clare and how grateful she was that she could send new warriors up here to become even better people. That’s the word she used. People. Not warriors. But coming here somehow made them better. I wanted to become better. I feel like I am becoming better as a warrior and a person. But I want to help Captain Clare. Why can’t we help her, Raki?” she finishes. She turns back to Raki and gives him a pleading look, her eyes slightly glassy. 

_Why can’t I help her?_ he thinks to himself. 

Raki forces a small smile, trying to ease Crystal’s concern. 

“It’s only been the first week of the rain. While we need it, obviously, it doesn’t rain every day or even every week. But I do know your concern, because I share it as well. But out of respect for Clare, she’s earned the right to handle things as she wants to: I don’t know what else we can do.”

She nods softly, her face looking a bit bleak. 

A small weight tugs at Raki’s heart. The new ones are always the ones that show their concern the most. He knows the others are concerned: They love Clare in their own ways. 

“I want to do something,” Crystal says. 

“I know. If you do think of something, I hope it works. Just don’t,” he stops to consider his words, “Just don’t push too hard, okay? I don’t want you feeling the wrath of Clare,” he finishes. 

She nods, “Thank you, Raki,” she pauses and looks at the window, seeing it getting dark. “I have to go on watch duty.”

Raki nods, understanding. Crystal turns around and quietly exits his shop. 

Raki takes a few steps back and plants himself on his chair, looking down at the floor. His breaths are heavy as the air in his shop keeps him warm. As a tear drops from his cheek, “Why, Clare? What can I do to help you? I learned how to fight, how to be a swordsman, how to make armor, to help you. But it’s not enough. Why am I not good enough to help you?!” he says, his jaw and fist clenched, the air around him now bitter.

_It’s been a week since I sent the letter. Please, Commander Miria, please have some guidance for me._

~*~

“Raki,

I don’t know how much Clare has told you about the Northern War, but I assume it’s more than even the newer warriors know. Personally, I don’t know much regarding Clare’s feelings. There was a warrior that came to Pieta with Clare. She was originally not given the assignment but wanted to pay back a debt she felt she owed to Clare.

Clare brought her back from the brink of Awakening.”

Raki pauses and takes that in---he never knew that part. But he remembers the Rabona Cathedral, and how he wanted to die with Clare when she had crossed her limit. There was no life without Clare in it then. Nor is there a life without Clare in it now. But he realizes that even Clare will outlive him. He brings himself out of this reflection and continues with the letter. 

“They traveled together up North, What they shared, what was said, I don’t know. I do know that Jean was devoted to Clare, much to Clare’s discomfort. But I think you understand that as well. The battle up there did not go well.”

Raki raises an eyebrow at that statement and wonders how many times Commander Miria tried to word that sentence. 

“An Awakened Being knocked several of us out, and gave a mortal wound to Jean. Clare, again, partially awakened and crossed her limit. She cut down the field commander of the Awakened Beings but did not think she could come back. Jean paid back her debt at the cost of her own life.

You know Clare and her self-recrimination over things she has done or thought she should have done. I am not surprised she chose this as a kind of penance. In the end, I am not surprised this has gone on as long as it has. Clare’s greatest strength to others is her greatest weakness to herself: Her stubbornness. 

Raki, I hope you can reach her in a way none of us have been able to do. Your courage and resourcefulness is something needed right now. I have every faith that you will be able to reach her. 

Jeans symbol is on the next page. I understand your hesitation in wanting to go to the place in the mountains.

Good luck and take care of yourselves,

Miria”

He switches pages and looks at the symbol, tracing it with his fingers. 

_This symbol, assigned by the Organization._

”Who are you Jean?” Raki says out loud. Of course, no one would ever be able to tell him much. 

He organizes the papers and places the stack on Clare's desk, pocketing the letter from Miria. He leaves Clare’s office, heading to his workshop. His new project will keep him busy.

~*~

He didn’t mean for it to happen this way; it became a routine while he works in the evenings. Crystal comes and gives him a report about Clare’s behavior. He feels bad because she is basically spying on Clare

_Her heart is in the right place, but her execution needs improvement._

He sighs, _Just like someone I once knew._

However, he knows Clare would have put a stop to it if she found it worrisome. He surmises she doesn’t care that Crystal comes to him, but it wasn’t unusual for new warriors to lean on Raki their first year here. 

He chisels away on a steel mold he has been working on for a month. It is getting closer to summer and the rain would eventually stop. 

He wonders if he’ll be able to generate enough heat to have the metals become molten. 

He had stopped looking at the pressing he took of Jean’s symbol two weeks ago. He spent so many hours looking at it at the beginning, it is now part of his memory. 

_I never knew you, Jean. Yet, you’ve left your mark on me. Somehow._

He looks out his window, Crystal’s “shift” is ending as sunset ends. It didn’t rain today. He doesn’t think it will rain tonight. He is grateful, as Crystal will actually get some rest tonight.

He wonders why Clare allows the shadowing, she is too smart and knowledgeable these days not to notice. A few of the trainees had done this before, but none had the desire Crystal does. 

_She does have a good heart. She is different. I wonder if the next trainee will be like her._

He thinks back to the conversation they had, where he realized just how much the older warriors are making sure this generation will not deal with the same feelings they did.

_The same feelings they still do, you fool._

The light coming from the window was fading, and Crystal will be arriving soon. He trusts her to be discreet on his current work. It is now clear that he is working on a warrior’s symbol. He wonders how much longer it will take for him to be satisfied with the mold. And how many versions he will reject until one is perfect in his eyes. 

_Still that same worried boy you were when you met her._

_This pendant must be perfect._

~*~

“Raki, why did Clare return here?” Crystal says.

It is a question he stopped hearing a few years ago. It is also a question to which he has no good answer. He thinks about his answer, hearing the rain hitting the roof. It was closer to the summer and the rain would almost stop. A rare summer rain occasionally occurs, and again in the fall. Winter will come and snow will cover this land. Next spring, the cycle begins anew. 

“I suppose it has something to do with going up to the final resting place of the 17 warriors,” says. _And of one warrior in particular._

“Commander Miria chose not too…” Crystal trails off. 

“Yes, but Commander Miria needs to be in the center of the continent. Rabonda is as good as any, probably more so.”

“She just sits, and sits, and sits,” she says, then pausing and letting out a frustrated sigh, “until the moon has been in the sky for awhile.”

Each time she gives this report, she sounds more distraught to Raki, as if she should be able to do something more. 

He takes a deep sigh, “I’ve seen Clare do things she wishes she never had to do. I’ve seen her kill a friend,” Raki says, choking on the last word. He looks down at the floor, the memories bring back a tremendous amount of sadness, “and bury her,” he finishes. It was one of his earliest memories with Clare. 

“Black cards. She was given her friend’s Back Card. Do you have those, Crystal?” The curiosity on his face is clear. 

She shakes her head, confused, “I’ve never heard of those.” 

“As I recall, the older warriors would leave Black Cards with their handlers,” he says, biting off the world “handler” in disgust. “It meant the warrior felt they were losing control of her human mind,” he takes a deep breath before continuing, “that they needed to be killed before turning into Yoma. The card was delivered to someone that the warrior chose,” he says, his unfocused eyes towards the ground.

“The warrior that received the card had the final duty of killing her before her mind was fully lost,” he finishes, looking up at his roof. The sadness he felt that day come back and he shakes his head. 

“Clare got one shortly after I began traveling with her. And Clare,” he looks back down toward the ground, “Clare fulfilled her friend’s final request.”

He sighs again, then looks up at Crystal. 

He’s taken aback at the ashen and horrified look Crystal has. He sees her fighting back tears. He knows this feeling, yet is also confused. 

“I-how-” Crystal stammers, taking deep breaths, “why?” she finally says exasperated.

“I don’t know,” he says softly. He looks towards the ground, realizing that Crystal, and others of her age, will never have to experience the hell Clare went through. “It’s why Clare fosters teamwork. If you’re connected to others, you’ll always have support. Something Clare, Commander Miria, Deneve, Helen all lacked a great deal. They’ve done things they wish they could take back. The things they’d never have to do under different circumstances. I think,” he pauses, wondering how much he should say, “I think that’s why she came back here.” 

“Is her friend…” Crystal trails off, not finishing the question. 

“No, I know where, where...” he stops, feeling ashamed he cannot remember her name. He takes a minute before finally remembering, “Elena. I know where Elena is buried. Clare… She went back to her grave and brought her back to Rabona in a coffin so she could be buried with the other warriors.”

 _She was alone in life, she didn’t deserve to be alone in death,_ he remembers Clare saying. Commander Miria heard it as well and made it a directive. Any remains are to be given a proper reburial in Rabona when possible. 

“I still don’t understand why she came back here?” Crystal says, calming down. 

“Penance,” he pauses, trying to collect his thoughts and figure out what is appropriate to say. He does not want to tell Crystal too much, Clare deserves privacy in her life. He looks back up at Crystal before continuing, “Not wanting to be far from whatever it is she feels needs to be close to…” he trails off, trying to respect Clare’s privacy. Her being here for Jean is his own speculation, he does not want to create a rumour that would spread among the younger warriors. Clare never speaks about Jean to anyone and he chooses to respect that. 

They stand in silence for a while, listening to the rain. The end of spring is near: The rain will stop soon, it will warm up, the farmers will harvest their crop, and people will travel more. Clare will have her own reprieve from her penance. 

He walks over to his work table and looks at the covered cloth. He traces his fingers on the cloth, feeling the metal below. 

_This is the best it is ever going to get,_ he thinks, before putting it away. 

He turns around, facing Crystal. He has a small smile. He’s trying to make sure he does not do anything to startle her, “Crystal, could you stay and watch my shop ‘til I get back?” he asks as he grabs his poncho. 

“Of course,” she says, tilting her head. 

“And Crystal?” He says, now fully smiling and looking slightly more relieved as if some weight is off his shoulders.

“Yes, Raki?” Crystal asks.

“Thank you,” he says in a warm voice. 

Crystal shakes her head slowly, “For what?”

“For caring enough to do something no one else has tried. For taking chances we all feared to take,” he says. She kept this part of Clare at the forefront of his mind, forcing him to think about it when he was content to ignore it. She made him face his own fears over these last three months. 

_If I’m honest with myself, I’m afraid of her being angry at me,_ he thinks.

Crystal brows raise and her eyes go wide, “Raki, sir, I don’t think I’ve done anything useful?” 

_The number of times I’ve thought that,_ he thinks before answering, “Your help and your care has been invaluable, Crystal. More than you realize, I know. But, please, trust me on this one,” he says with a broad smile and soft eyes.

He can see Crystal does not look very convinced, he internally shrugs, “I’m going to talk to Clare,” he says. 

He sees Crystal’s eyes go very wide. No one talks to Captain Clare when it rains.

Raki puts on his poncho and raises his hood, then takes a deep breath. He nods to Crystal before opening the door. As he steps through the threshold, he looks at the cloudy night sky. _If there is something more out there that is listening, please help me this night_.

~*~

Raki walks the path to Clare’s little territory on the edges of town, where the trees end and three solitary boulders sit about three feet apart. They form a triangle with two towards the town and one towards the wilderness. He isn’t sure how they got there; it wouldn’t surprise him if Clare moved them there herself.

As he approaches, he sees Clare sitting atop the middle boulder, the one towards the wilderness. She is facing towards the town. He takes a deep breath as his jaw clenches. His heart starts beating faster and the feeling to turn back grows more. He tries to steady his breathing. 

_I need to do this._

Clare looks up at him, showing no emotion or expression, as he stops in front of her. 

“I'm going to sit here, is that okay?” Raki says, pointing to the boulder on Clare’s right. 

Clare shrugs at him, but does not say no. He takes a seat on the boulder to her right. Even with the poncho and hood, he’s soaking wet. He pulls his hood off. 

“You should keep it on, you’re going to get sick,” Clare says, frowning at him.

Raki cannot tell if she is worried or angry at him. He shrugs back at Clare, “Crystal is watching my shop so the fire doesn’t jump and burn everything down,” he says with a smile.

“She’s a good warrior,” she says, slightly nodding. 

“Yes. Kind hearted. Worries too much,” he says. 

“I know,” Clare says with some frustration and a small but noticeable scowl on her face. “It gets annoying to be shadowed so much.”

The revelation that she knows Crystal has been spying on her does not surprise Raki. What does surprise him is Clare not doing anything about it, “Why do you tolerate it?” 

“Because shadowing is a useful skill and she should learn it somehow,” Clare says in a flat voice, her face softening a bit. The scowl is gone. 

“She’s just worried about you, Clare. They all are. Every time when spring comes,” he says in a soft voice. 

“It doesn’t make sense,” she responds with a frown. 

Raki sighs and looks at the ground.

“What? Rain doesn’t affect me. It doesn’t affect them. It does affect you, though. Go back and get inside before you get sick, please,” Clare says, concern clear in her voice. 

“I will, I just…” Raki starts before trailing off. He winces, then looks back up at Clare, “Why do you do this to yourself, Clare? It’s been five years,” he says, trying to stay calm. 

This time, it’s Clare’s turn to look toward the ground. When Clare gets this way, even he has a hard time getting a read on Clare’s body language. She stays silent for a long time. 

“Clare?” Raki finally asks. 

“I miss someone is all,” she finally says, staring emptily at the ground, “But she’ll never come back,” she whispers. 

Raki can hear the finality in Clare’s tone. He now knows with complete certainty she’s talking about Jean. _The one she visits in the mountains every day._

“Do you think,” he starts before stopping. He takes a deep breath, “Do you think Jean would want you doing this to yourself?”

He sees her flinch ever so slightly. For the first time in a long time, he truly wonders if she’s mad at him. But she says nothing. 

His shoulders are tense, he bites his lip, thinking carefully about what to say next. His heartbeats grow faster, the frustration he feels grows as he struggles to keep the calm look on his face. 

They sit in silence for several minutes. Clare looks up at him several times, and he sees the concern grow each time she looks up. 

Raki knows she’s concerned for his health. The rain has soaked through his poncho. But he is stubborn. He survived a great deal just to be near her again. He survived a great deal just to accompany her all those years ago. He remembers how he bared his heart to her as a young boy, who had nothing left, not realizing that they were the same in that regard. 

_If speaking from what was in my heart was good then… God of Rabona… please help..._

“I missed someone terribly too-” he starts before stopping abruptly. He is unsure and afraid of saying the wrong thing. He pushes through his fear, “I didn’t know if I’d ever get to see her again. And on some cold nights, here in this very territory, I thought I would never see her again. But I kept on moving forward. I had to keep looking. Now I’m just blessed she’s sitting next to me now,” Raki says, choking up. He fights back his tears. The emotion of those seven years, their reunion, all come flooding back and he takes a moment to try to compose himself. 

Even in the rain, Raki sees Clare’s eyes get glassy. He didn’t mean to make her emotional or cry. He feels bad for having done so. 

_Perhaps those were the wrong words._

He stands up. The least he can do now is allay Clare’s concerns for his health.

“Some things transcend life, Clare. The rain can’t last forever, no matter how hard you make it try,” Raki softly says. 

Clare tilts her head up slightly, he can see the whirlwind of emotions in her eyes. Raki knows it’s best for him to go back and let her work through them. He just wishes, painfully so, that she would come inside with him. But he knows better. 

He begins walking back to his shop. As he walks, he looks up at the sky, wishing the rain would go away for good. 

_Hypocrite,_ he thinks to himself with a bitter smile. 

Raki isn’t sure what to say to Crystal. But he can say he did something. What happens going forward is something to think about later. Healing is a process, he learned that fact years ago. Raki hopes both he and Crystal can help Clare heal more.

~*~

Raki and Clare have not spoken about their conversation that rainy night several months ago, falling back into their normal routines. Raki and Crystal felt relief when spring became summer; Clare’s ritual remained in abeyance till the next spring. Unfortunately, time does fly at times and he knows the first rainy day of the new season could be any day now. History tells him it’s still a few weeks out. But nature has surprised him before.

Raki sits at the table in Clare’s office, going through his notes to write this month’s report to Miria. Clare is at the Church this time, using the communal area to talk to the people about more trade coming to the area and asking if the city wants to establish an official cityguard; if so, she will help train them. 

As Raki expected, Crystal’s visits slowly reduced, but she still visits him for some advice. Unlike those in the past, her crush on Clare has not dissipated. He finds it sweet, but he also feels sad for Crystal. He knows, as she probably knows, it will be unrequited.

He is not sure if Clare is even aware of it: Though, in the years since they moved back to Pieta, he wonders just how much of Clare’s imperceptive nature towards social things is deliberate. If he isn’t the same young boy all those years ago, she is certainly not the same reckless and isolated warrior he knew. 

He hears some activity outside and gets up, walking to the window to see what is happening. People are looking up at the sky, as he thinks the light outside is far too dark. 

_Damn it,_ he sighs, frowning and clenching down on his jaw. Spring arrives a couple of weeks earlier this year. He turns around, angry that mother nature decided to make it rain so early. He goes back to his table and sits down. Working on this month’s report will be much more difficult with this distraction. 

He grips the pencil, just looking at the paper. He puts the pencil down, placing his right hand in his right pocket, feeling for the pendant he made. The one he feels he cannot make any better. He finds it strange that he keeps it, not having yet given it to Clare. 

_Coward,_ he thinks to himself. Truthfully, he does not know when it might be a good time. But that particular night, he felt it was not right. He had admitted to Clare that he knew something about Jean. He had even spoken her name when nearly everyone else does not for fear of upsetting Clare. He feels like he hurt Clare that night, but remains at a loss as to what else he could have said. 

It’s not lost on him that he keeps the pendant in his pocket, feeling like it gives him some strength these last several months; especially after that rainy night in particular, when he worried Clare was furious at him. 

He hears the door open then someone walking up the flight of stairs to Clare’s office. He assumes it’s Crystal, possibly upset. He looks up at the door, expectantly. 

As the door opens, the person is not Crystal like he expected. 

His eyes widen, his mouth slightly open. He is surprised at whom is standing in front of him. 

Clare stands in front of him, tilting her head and narrowing her eyes, “Raki? Are you okay?”

Raki tries to speak, but nothing comes from his mouth. He can hear the rain hitting the roof hard and turns his head to the window. It is raining very hard. He looks down at the table as tears form in his eyes, though a smile starts to form. 

“I’m fine,” he manages to get out. He looks back up at Clare, almost in awe that this is happening. 

“Are you sure? You look,” she stops, looking thoughtful. “Well, it looks like you’re crying?” Clare says, eyes softening and looking worried. 

“You’re right,” he says, wiping his eyes before continuing, “I’m not just fine. I’m happy,” he finishes with a broad smile. 

Raki sees Clare’s look of disbelief at him. He stands up, then walks over to her. 

Raki looks at her, unsure of what to say. He finally settles on, “How,” he stammers, “how did the meeting go?”

He still sees the confusion on Clare’s face, “It went well. There’s some support. We’re going to reconvene tomorrow, it shouldn’t be raining then. I came back here because we want your advice on what to say to Commander Miria about this,” she stops, glancing at his table full of notes and papers, “and to finally see what you do with all these papers,” she finishes. 

Raki takes a few moments to consider her words. He realizes Clare is trying to keep herself occupied through the rain. A step he never thought was likely. 

Raki looks at the window again and sees it is still raining, then looks back at Clare.

 _She knows what she is doing is another step, but she does not want to talk about it,_ he thinks to himself. 

“Um,” he starts, “I just work on making them readable in a simple format. You could read them when I’m done?” he asks.

“Yes,” Clare says with a small laugh, “been here five years and I haven’t really read a report. We just talk about them,” she says. Raki sees she is still confused by the way he is acting, her head still tilted. 

He realizes his behavior would be confusing to almost anyone. 

Raki looks to the ground for a moment, then reaches into his right pocket. He takes out the pouch holding the pendant, holding it up to Clare, “This is for you.” 

Clare takes the pouch from him, opening it. He watches her take out the leather necklace first, then her eyes widen and her mouth open when she sees the pendant. The pendant of Jean’s symbol he feels he cannot make any better. 

Raki holds his breath, preparing for the worst. For several moments, time stops for him as Clare just looks at the pendant. Finally, he sees a tear start to form in one of her eyes, then the other. He feels his chest getting heavy, the pressure increasing. As his heart starts to break, Clare grabs him and hugs him tight. 

“Thank you,” she gets out in a whisper, “Thank you, thank you, thank you…” she keeps on repeating. 

He is stunned. As the shock wears off, he returns the hug with one of his own. 

“It can’t rain all the time,” Clare says through the tears, crying on his shoulder. 

“No,” he says, taking a deep breath. “Sometimes the rain can be a good thing,” he finishes. 

They hold each other as tears flow.

**Author's Note:**

> This combined two post-series headcanons I posted years ago on Tumblr. The first one: Raki gifted Clare a pendant that was of Jean's symbol. The second one: Raki became a blacksmith. While Clare did move from being a death-seeker and chose life, I always imagined she'd still have a lot of guilt over Jean. Teresa? With Teresa, she at least got to say everything she wanted to at the end. Jean, not so much.
> 
> The title was actually inspired by the movie _The Crow_. I have another fic in the works, also inspired by the movie and swiping a line for the title, that is a companion piece to this one. Maybe I'll finish it this year! 
> 
> Thanks for reading. If you enjoyed it, thank you. If you didn't, I'm sorry.


End file.
